Kael moved first.
Not recklessly. Not loudly. Just fast enough to matter.
The moment Belphegor staggered under the combined assault, Kael stepped into the chamber and drove his hand forward. Lightning gathered along his arm in a tight spiral before releasing in a focused arc that cut clean across the battlefield.
It didn't aim for Veynar.
It aimed for the mages.
The bolt struck the floor between two of them and exploded outward in a blinding flash. The impact scattered their formation, forcing three of them to break their casting mid-sequence or risk frying each other.
That single disruption was enough.
Belphegor inhaled sharply through the pain and moved.
He shadow-stepped through the opening Kael had just created, reappearing beside the nearest mage whose concentration had slipped. His hand closed around the man's throat before the spell could reform, and he drove him downward into the stone with brutal force. The impact cracked the floor and knocked the breath clean out of him.
Belphegor didn't wait to see if he would rise.
He was already moving again.
"About time," he muttered, though whether it was to Kael or himself wasn't clear.
Behind Kael, Lyra raised both hands, her expression tightening as she focused. A faint glow spread outward from her palms, not bright, not dramatic, but steady. The pressure in the room shifted subtly as her magic took hold, reinforcing movement, easing strain, sharpening clarity.
"Don't die yet," she said under her breath.
Jarek didn't wait for anything.
He charged straight into the broken formation, weapon already swinging. A mage tried to raise a barrier in time, but Jarek's strike crashed through it with sheer force, the shield shattering as the blow carried through and sent the man sprawling across the floor.
Corin had already taken position near the doorway.
His first arrow flew without warning.
It slipped clean through the chaos and buried itself in the shoulder of a mage who had been preparing a binding spell behind the others. The man jerked violently, the spell collapsing before it could complete.
"Backline disrupted," Corin called calmly, already reaching for the next arrow.
The battlefield changed.
It was no longer Belphegor against a coordinated unit.
It was Belphegor inside a fractured one.
Veynar saw it immediately.
"Reform!" he snapped.
But the command came a fraction too late.
Belphegor was already inside their spacing again.
He didn't move like a fighter now. He moved like pressure given form. Every step forced a reaction, every swing demanded space, and every hesitation cost someone dearly.
A mage lunged at him with a blade of condensed air. Belphegor caught the wrist mid-strike, twisted, and drove his elbow into the man's face hard enough to drop him instantly. Another tried to flank him with fire gathering in both hands, but Belphegor turned into it, raised his arm, and let the Chrono Shield distort the incoming blast just long enough to step through it.
The fire bent, slowed, then snapped past him as time corrected itself.
He was already inside the caster's reach.
One strike.
The mage folded.
But the pain was still there.
Still burning.
Still spreading.
Belphegor's next step faltered again, just slightly, but this time it lingered longer. His shadow-step dragged, arriving him half a heartbeat late as a bolt of lightning clipped his side and sent a sharp jolt through his body.
He gritted his teeth.
The light in his chest flared hotter.
Across the room, Veynar's eyes narrowed.
"Yes," he murmured.
He raised one hand, and space folded around him again, more aggressively this time. The air near Belphegor distorted, pulling slightly, dragging his balance off-center.
"Keep him there," Veynar ordered.
Two mages responded instantly, one raising a field of compressed gravity while the other began weaving a layered binding spell meant to lock movement entirely.
Kael saw it forming.
"Break that!" he shouted.
Jarek didn't hesitate. He pivoted hard, ignoring the mage in front of him, and charged straight toward the one channeling gravity. The man tried to redirect, panic flashing across his face, but Jarek was already too close. The impact of his strike broke the mage's concentration completely, the gravity field collapsing in on itself before it could fully form.
At the same time, Corin's second arrow flew.
It struck the binding mage clean through the forearm.
The spell shattered.
Belphegor exhaled once, sharp and controlled.
Then he moved again.
This time, he went straight for Veynar.
Shadow swallowed him and spat him out at an angle Veynar had not chosen.
That was new.
For the first time since the fight began, Belphegor didn't aim directly where Veynar expected him to be. He adjusted mid-transition, forcing the emergence point slightly off-axis.
Veynar shifted space to compensate—
—but Belphegor was already adapting.
His fist drove forward, cutting through the distortion before it could fully redirect. It didn't land clean, but it landed enough. The impact caught Veynar across the ribs and forced him back several steps, his composure breaking for the first time.
The remaining mages reacted immediately, throwing everything they had into the gap.
Wind slammed into Belphegor's back. Fire burst against his side. A shard of stone caught him across the shoulder and tore through skin.
He took all of it.
And stayed standing.
But the cost was rising.
His breathing had changed now. Not heavy, not yet, but tighter. Controlled in a way that suggested effort instead of ease. The glow in his eyes flickered once, briefly dimming before returning.
Kael noticed.
"Lyra," he said quietly.
"I see it," she replied.
Her hands tightened slightly as she pushed more focus into her magic, trying to stabilize what she could from a distance. It wasn't healing, not in the direct sense, but it helped. It reduced the strain, steadied the edges of collapse.
Still, it wasn't enough.
The pain inside Belphegor surged again.
Harder this time.
His vision snapped white for a fraction of a second.
And that was all Veynar needed.
Space folded sharply around Belphegor's position, not to evade, but to trap. The air compressed inward from multiple angles, locking him in a momentary cage of distorted space.
"Now," Veynar said.
The remaining mages unleashed everything at once.
Kael moved.
Lightning surged up his arms as he stepped forward, planting himself between the incoming barrage and Belphegor's locked position.
"Not happening."
He drove both hands forward.
The lightning didn't scatter this time.
It condensed.
A dense, crackling barrier formed in front of him, catching the brunt of the incoming spells in a violent collision of energy. The impact forced him back half a step, boots grinding against stone, but he held.
Jarek stepped in beside him, weapon raised, knocking aside anything that slipped through.
Corin's arrows kept flying, forcing the mages to break focus again and again.
And inside the collapsing distortion—
Belphegor moved.
Not cleanly.
Not perfectly.
But violently.
The shadow around him twisted, forcing its way through the warped space as he tore himself free by sheer force of will. The moment the distortion broke, he stepped forward again, slower now, but no less dangerous.
His eyes locked onto Veynar.
The smile that followed was not calm.
It was sharp.
Unstable.
Hungry.
"You're still in my way," he said.
Veynar straightened slightly, brushing dust from his sleeve, though his gaze had hardened.
"And you," he replied, "are beginning to slow."
For a brief moment, the room held still.
Both sides breathing.
Both sides measuring.
Both sides aware of what the next exchange would cost.
Kael stepped slightly closer to Belphegor, not blocking him, not leading him, just there.
"We've got what we came for," he said under his breath.
Belphegor didn't look at him.
His gaze never left Veynar.
"I'm not finished."
"I know," Kael replied.
"That's the problem."
Across the chamber, more footsteps echoed in the distance.
Reinforcements.
Time was running out.
And for the first time since the fight began—
Belphegor was no longer the only unstoppable force in the room.